


Give Me The Worst Of You

by coupe_de_foudre



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Gavin Reed, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Hurt Gavin Reed, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom Gavin, Smut, Therapy, Top Upgraded Connor | RK900, Upgraded Connor RK900/Gavin Reed-centric, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-07 11:06:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coupe_de_foudre/pseuds/coupe_de_foudre
Summary: Therapy is for fucking nerds.Or, that Therapy!Nines fic that nobody asked for...





	1. Let Me Drown

**Author's Note:**

> So this was an idea suggested by my close friend. I'm pretty sure it started as a pwp idea and somehow developed into this mess. I hope y'all enjoy it!
> 
> Title from Worst Of You by Maisie Peters
> 
> Happy reading, snowflakes <3

_Therapy is for fucking nerds._ Gavin thought, flopping into the uncomfortable armchair with a loud sigh. The waiting room that he was currently in was miserable, bland beige walls with stupid posters about ‘happiness is for life, not just the holidays’ and other dumb shit. Gavin rolled his eyes, propping his feet up onto the cluttered table full of out-dated magazines and leaflets for self-help lines.

The chairs were a sickly green, worn-down and probably riddled in germs. Gavin shuddered at the thought and tugged down his hoodie sleeves over his hands.

He knew he looked in as bad shape as the room did, so really he couldn’t judge. He hadn’t washed properly in over a week now, just splashing cold water over his face every morning and hoping the toxic deodorant and cigarette smoke would cling to his skin enough to cover up any unclean smells. Even his clothes weren’t fresh; he’d worn the same grey hoodie for the past couple of days and his jeans were old and faded, ripped at the knees unintentionally. He hadn’t even bothered to shave before leaving his apartment, his usually trimmed stubble growing into a very short beard.

As it currently stands, his goddamn cat had it better than he did. At least the fucking thing got fed regularly.

Gavin felt bad even thinking so harshly towards his beloved pet and mentally apologised.

“Gavin Reed?” an overly friendly female voice spoke, and Gavin looked up to see a pristine woman standing by the door to the waiting room in red heels and a navy pantsuit, smile too bright for the dismal weather of winter in Detroit.

He rose from his seat, following her silently down the bleak corridor. The _click, click, click_ of her heels rattled through his mind and he clenched his fist to stop from snapping at her; she hadn’t done anything wrong.

They stopped outside a white door, two from the end of the corridor, and a silver plague nailed to it read ‘Mr R. Anderson’

_Pretentious bitch._ Gavin scowled.

“Mr Anderson is ready for you, just go straight through.” the woman spoke, and Gavin almost jumped because he’d actually forgotten that she was still there. He just nodded at her, watching as she clicked her way out of sight again before pushing down on the cold metal handle and walking through to his worst living nightmare.

Therapy.

The room behind the door was big, bigger than he’d expected. White walls instead of beige, covered in abstract paintings that added a world of colour to the place. Long, white blinds were slanted open just enough to allow the fading sunset to shine through and cast an inviting glow across the room, reflecting off of the pale hardwood flooring.

A long, black leather couch sat in the corner of the room, and opposite it was a desk housing a modern computer and stacks of neatly filed papers. Swivelling patiently on the chair by the desk was an unfamiliar man, brown hair slicked-back and dressed in all black – a thin, tight-fitted turtleneck and skinny jeans that clung to lean legs. The man even wore glossy black loafers, adding a hint of class to his already perfected look.

His skin was of a contrastingly pale complexion, a scatter of moles across his face (and probably the rest of his body, though Gavin didn’t need to think of that right now). His lips were thin and pink, curved into a warm smile, and he held himself with purpose and confidence. Something Gavin could only ever dream of having.

But the most striking thing about the man was his eyes; piercing blue, calculating and cold but soft at the same time? Gavin didn’t look in them for too long because it made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

Overall, Gavin couldn’t help but feel inadequate stood in the same room as this man.

“Take a seat.” the man said, hand gesturing freely towards the couch across the room from him. Gavin followed his instructions, perching awkwardly on the edge of the couch as his hands fell in his lap. Instinctively, he began picking at his bitten-down nails.

There was a shuffle of papers and the scrape of chair wheels on the wooden floor before the man cleared his throat, now facing Gavin. He had one leg crossed casually over the other, leaning back in his chair and fixing Gavin with a curious stare.

“My name is Richard Anderson, but please just call me Nines.” he started in his smooth voice, smiling gently as Gavin met his blue eyes, “I assume it’s just Gavin?”

“Y-Yeah,” Gavin nodded.

“Okay…” Nines – strange name, Gavin noted – splayed his hands out and continued, “Well, these sessions are basically for you to use in any way that you wish to. I don’t know why you’re here, other than you requested an appointment with a therapist. You have no previously logged data of any medical visits other than a few dentist appointments and a week in hospital a couple years ago due to a stabbing incident-” Gavin just listened as the man rattled off the few rare occasions that he’d visited any medical place in his life, once again questioning why he’d agreed to this damn thing.

It hadn’t been his choice, despite him being the one to make the appointment. It had been an agreement (or rather, a forced decision) between him and his closest friend and co-worker, Tina, that he needed to sort his life out.

She’d found him in his apartment – because of course she had a key, for this very reason actually – kneeling in an empty bathtub clutching a bottle of almost-finished whiskey and smoking a joint, hands shaking uncontrollably as a violent flood of tears fell down his cheeks and into the porcelain tub. It was his 36th birthday, close to 11pm on a Thursday, and he was fucking having another mental breakdown. He can’t even remember what triggered it, all he remembers is the insistent craving need to get high and drink his problems away.

He’d hoped that by this point in his life he’d have learnt that that never works. Sadly, his mind never worked like that.

Tina, bless her stupid caring soul, had picked him up and thrown out his whiskey and joint before getting him in bed and covering him in all the blankets he kept in his closet. Putting on an old Disney film, they sat under the covers and watched it in silence, Gavin only finding his voice as the credits began to roll down the screen. He’d started sobbing again, pouring his broken heart out to his friend and falling into her embrace with an exhausted sigh.

Before leaving him that next morning, she’d made him promise to ring up for a therapy session – fixing him with her signature look that left no room for arguments and threatening to kidnap his cat if he didn’t.

But now, sat here with this stranger, Gavin started to wish he’d just ignored her advice and changed the lock on his door instead.

“So, where should we start?” Nines prompted, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees.

Gavin glanced back down to his hands, squeezing his fingers to refrain from picking his nails any further. He didn’t want to start talking about his fucked up life, especially not to this dude who looked like nothing bad had occurred in his life even once. He didn’t _need_ to be here. “Can we not?” Gavin asked, scowling when he heard how needy his voice sounded.

Nines looked surprised, but quickly masked it with another smile and leant back in his chair once again. “Sure,” he shrugged, “whatever you want to do.”

Gavin nodded, watching in quiet thought as Nines turned to his computer and started typing on the keyboard. He didn’t cast another glance at Gavin, allowing him to slowly take in his surroundings and acknowledge the fact that he would have to keep coming here until he actually dealt with the shit in his past. However, that didn’t matter to him at the moment and so he remained silent for the remainder of the hour.

When the session was finished, Nines turned to Gavin and held a hand out to him. Gavin stood up from the couch, legs numb and tingling with each step, and took the man’s hand in his own. Nines had oddly long fingers that wrapped naturally around his own hand that was covered in cat scratches. With a brief shake, Nines spoke again, “Your next session will be at the same time but on Thursday.”

Gavin nodded, making a mental note of it because otherwise he was sure to forget it by the time he left the room. He wished he didn’t have to come back but he didn’t want to disappoint Tina – not after all she does for him. And so, he let his hand slip from Nines’ and forced a tight smile as he began to walk towards the door.

“Have a good week.” Nines called, already turning his chair back to his computer screen. Gavin opened the door.

“You too.” he said, voice not as gruff as he’d expected. Nines hummed in response, chin resting on his hand as he scrolled the computer, and Gavin tried not to think how he resembled a model in that pose. Clicking the door shut behind him, he was back in the bleak corridor feeling almost exactly as he’d felt an hour earlier.

*

“I’m home.” Gavin called out to a cold apartment, dropping his key onto the kitchen counter.

His apartment was small but for one person and a cat it was more than enough room. With a bathroom, bedroom, living-room and an open hallway and kitchen area, he had all that he needed to live comfortably.

A soft meow echoed through the apartment, followed by the rushed pad of paws across carpet and the jingle of a bell. Emerging from the bedroom came running a small tabby cat, mostly brown but with patches of ginger fur, a bitten left ear and green eyes. Mewling excitedly in greeting, the cat began rubbing himself against Gavin’s leg.

“You okay, buddy?” Gavin mumbled, crouching down to scratch between the cat’s ears and earning a purr in response. “C’mon, let’s get you some food.”

Almost as if he understood what Gavin was saying, the cat followed him into the kitchen and started circling his abandoned food bowl. Gavin chuckled, picking it up and grabbing a fork. He reached into the highest cupboard and pulled out a box labelled ‘Maxwell’, reading the options of cat food and settling on one. “I think lamb today, you agree?” he asked, putting the box back and squishing the cat food up in the bowl. Maxwell meowed by his feet, nose twitching and paws sliding up and down the cupboard door as he reached his body as tall as he could.

Finally placing the food down, Gavin stroked the cat once more before cleaning up the mess and wiping his hands down his jeans.

His stomach rumbled but he disregarded it, hand running through his matted locks and grimacing. He really needed to sort himself out, physically before mentally.

Sighing and grumbling to himself about stupid people and stupid showers and stupid _everything_ , Gavin headed to his little bathroom and set the water of the shower running. It took a good five minutes to warm up so he had time to grab some fresh clothes (joggers and a baggy tee) from his bedroom as well as a towel.

When he finally got under the water, he closed his eyes and just let the warmth run over his tense body – melting into his skin and washing the dirt of the week away. He tilted his head back until his hair was under the water too, hands going up to run through it and detangle it before even attempting to add shampoo.

There was something immensely rejuvenating about a shower that seemed to awaken Gavin’s mind, and by the time he was fully washed and dried he felt much better than he had for a while. Why had he left it so long to shower?

He blames that Nines for looking so damn good and making Gavin want to actually put effort in to his appearance, as he grabs his razor and uses his wet towel to wipe the steam from his bathroom mirror before beginning to tidy up his facial hair.

Once satisfied, he rinsed the razor and left it on the sink to air out. Throwing his towel over the top of the bathroom door, he dumped his clothes from the day into the laundry basket and headed out to the living-room.

There was no heating on because Gavin was cutting down on his expenses, especially if he was going to fucking therapy now because that shit wasn’t exactly cheap, but it was alright because he had enough blankets to keep his reasonably warm during the colder nights.

Entering his living-room, Gavin found Maxwell curled up on the arm of his couch – tatty and old, unlike the one from his therapy session – his little body rising up and down with each small breath that he took. Gavin smiled fondly, taking a seat next to him and flicking on the TV, searching through Netflix until he found a half-decent show to put on. He wasn’t really watching it anyway, lost in the vast space of his thoughts that seemed to string him out into his own little world, but it worked as good background noise.

He didn’t really know what he was particularly thinking about, if he was being honest. Though, his mind definitely drifted by and lingered on his new therapist more times than he’d like to admit. Those steely blue eyes following him even now. The strange sweetness to his voice that didn’t suit the classy appearance that he had, and the weird nickname. He puzzled Gavin’s mind, made no sense, and left him with more questions than he thought he’d have about a stranger as he ended up slipping into sleep, head nestled beside his cat and legs tucked up to his chest uncomfortably on the small couch.

Maybe on Thursday he could find some answers to his questions.


	2. Love The Sound Of Your Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, maybe therapy isn’t that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We aimed for a longer chapter and we failed epically but hey, it's a chapter nonetheless! I think 2K words are a good minimum though. I'm more interested in quality than quantity I guess so this may not be a very long fic but hopefully it'll be good!
> 
> Happy reading, snowflakes <3

“Alright, knucklehead?” Tina called, sliding besides Gavin as he stood by the precinct’s coffee machine. Luckily, the coffee here was half-decent and, considering it was free, Gavin had no complaints. He huffed a short laugh as his only actual friend leant against the counter, arms crossed over her chest as she tilted her head to watch him pour the steaming coffee into his mug – ‘World’s Number 1 Asshole’, a birthday present from Tina herself.

Wrapping his hands around the mug for warmth, he brought it up to his face and let the bitter smell of coffee enter his system with a satisfied smile. He turned his body to lean sideways on the counter, facing his friend.

“So,” Tina started, and the tone of her voice along with the unusual frown on her face told him that she’d been considering what she was about to say for a while now. He braced for the undoubted personal question. “Did you go to therapy on Tuesday?” Ah, there it was.

Gavin bristled, taking a sharp intake through the gap of his front teeth and straightening himself out of habit. “I did.” he offered, an olive branch to further questions but not initiating anything himself. He mentally wished for Tina to leave it at that and go back to her desk or wherever the fuck she appeared from, but he knew that she wouldn’t drop this subject – not after forcing him to go to the damn appointment.

“And? How was it?”

An unbothered shrug, Gavin took a sip of his coffee and grimaced as it burnt his tongue. “It was shit. I just sat on the damn couch for an hour. I don’t see why I should be going.”

Tina rolled her eyes, uncrossing her arms and using her legs to push up from her leaning position. “Gav, don’t be a fucking dick. For once in your life, just open up would you? It’d _really_ do you some good.”

Gavin scowled, taking another sip of coffee but this time prepared for the burning sensation. He disagreed; nothing good came from opening up your emotions. No, he much preferred to keep them safely locked, nailed and bolted into a tight can in the back of his mind and out of reach. However, Gavin was gracious enough not to voice such thoughts.

Sensing his reluctance to speak any further about the subject, Tina sighed. She grabbed a biscuit from the tin behind her and left the break room with a pat on his shoulder and a sympathetic smile.

Goddamn it, pity was the last thing he needed.

Grumbling to himself, Gavin carried his mug out to his desk and slammed it down – perhaps with a bit too much force since it sent droplets of black coffee spilling onto one of the files stacked nearby. A string of curse words fell from his mouth and he decided that, despite it barely scarping 9am, this was going to be a shit day.

Especially with fucking therapy straight after his shift, like he doesn’t have anything better to do than pay to fucking sit in a room with a posh snob.

*

The therapist’s waiting room hadn’t improved in the two days that it’d been since he was last here. The chairs were as grubby as he remembered and the walls were still bland enough to make him consider reading one of the ridiculous leaflets on the table (which was just as cluttered as it had been on Tuesday).

He didn’t understand how this room could look in such a state when down the corridor there was a room as immaculate as the one he’d been taken to. It was like a whole other world.

Just like on Tuesday, ten minutes after sitting down in one of the ugly green chairs the same perfected blonde woman came clicking into the room to call for him, directing him down to Mr R. Anderson’s – Nines’ – office.

_Was it an office?_ Gavin shrugged to himself, deciding that it could class as an office of sorts.

Not bothering to knock, he opened the door and stepped into the open spaced room. The weather today was considerably more miserable than it had been on Tuesday; grey skies and heavy rain that caused nothing but hassle. The blinds had been closed and instead a blinding white light on the ceiling had been switched on to add some light to the room.

Nines was sat at his desk again, spine as straight as a damn needle, all-black outfit just the same as Tuesday’s. He glanced up from his computer when hearing the door click open, and offered a gentle smile to Gavin.

Gavin just lifted his head slightly in greeting, moving to sit on the couch once again before Nines could tell him to. His tatty converse scuffled across the wooden floor but luckily left no marks.

This time, he sat more naturally on the couch, leaning his back into the cushioning leather and tilting his head onto the top of the backrest to look up at the ceiling. He didn’t want to speak, couldn’t find the energy after another boring shift at work.

He’d been put on desk duty. Fowler claimed that it was because he ‘has a shit tonne of paperwork overdue’ but Gavin reckons Tina is responsible in some way. She probably snitched about his tiny meltdown last month and now Fowler will think he’s too mentally unstable to do any actual fucking police work.

Pile of crap. That’s what Gavin thought it was, anyway.

“Tough day?” Nines’ calming voice spoke through the silence. Gavin didn’t move his eyes from the ceiling and instead opted to close them for a moment, relishing in the darkness that the backs of his eyelids provided.

An animalistic grunt came from the back of his throat in response to Nines’ question and, if the return of frequent tapping on a keyboard was anything to go by, Gavin thought it was safe to say that the other man had gone back to whatever work he had been doing moments ago – clearly sensing Gavin’s unwillingness to talk.

That was fine by him. He was perfectly okay with watching the silvery grey dots float in the blacks of his vision, like gentle flecks of dust – calm and reassuring. Other than the quiet taps of Nines typing, the room was peacefully silent – high enough from the street below that the bustle of afternoon traffic couldn’t be heard from here.

Focusing on his regular breathing, in and out with a rise and fall of his chest, Gavin relaxed fully into the couch.

When a soft tap of his shoulder caused him to jolt upwards, coming face to face with those icy blue eyes that hadn’t left his mind in days, Gavin was disorientated to say the least. Pulling his phone from his hoodie, he frowned at the time; his hour was up, in fact it had been an extra twenty minutes.

Shit, he fell asleep…

“Uh-fuck, man,” Gavin groaned, rubbing a hand down his tired face as Nines took a step back to give him enough space to stand up. “Why didn’t you wake me? Don’t you have another fuck-up like me to talk to?”

Nines barely reacted to the brutal wording, only a tiny lift of his right eyebrow showed any response. The man was like a damn robot. “No, Gavin, luckily you’re my last appointment.” he spoke with as much professionalism in his voice as Gavin could ever hope to have. Not that he was bothered about professionalism. “As for why I didn’t wake you? You looked like you could do with the rest. It’s not like I had anywhere to go so I figured it wouldn’t do either of us any harm to let you sleep for a few more minutes.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to stretch his limbs out. “I don’t need the rest. I’m fine.” he muttered with a bit more bitterness than he’d intended for.

Nines, as usual, didn’t react. Following Gavin to the door, he leant against the open door with grace and elegance – his black attire creating the attractive illusion of a long and thin body frame. Gavin clenched his fist as he dragged his eyes off of the man and met his blue stare.

“I guess I’ll see you on Tuesday?” Gavin asked, itching to just leave the building but feeling drawn to the man stood before him for some unknown reason. Maybe he simply felt like he owed him for letting him stay?

Nines nodded politely, and Gavin was about to begin walking down the corridor when he felt strong fingers wrap around his wrist, enclosing around it with ease. He turned back to face Nines with a questioning frown.

“You do know that you’re going to have to talk eventually, right?” Nines spoke, gentle and understanding with a look on his face that seemed to soften his features. Gavin found it endearing. He should show emotions more often; they looked good on the man.

Suddenly realising his derailing trail of thought, Gavin forced a smile. “I know.” _But I’m not ready, please, just give me time._ He wanted to add on, but knew that sounded pathetically needy and Gavin was anything but pathetic or needy. Nines however, seemed to be able to read minds and cast Gavin a knowing smile before releasing his wrist.

“See you on Tuesday, Gavin.” Nines said as Gavin started to walk away, a hint of warmth in his voice that almost brought a genuine smile to Gavin’s face.

_Okay, maybe therapy isn’t that bad._

*

Friday’s shift past as slowly as Thursday’s did and by the time Gavin dragged his feet through his apartment door he wanted nothing but to flop onto his bed and sleep.

Thankfully (praise the fucking non-existent God of the world) he had the weekend off, which meant nothing but endless sleep, cuddles with Maxwell and binge-watching Netflix whilst stuffing his face with leftover take-out and cookie dough ice-cream. His cat seemed to sense his exhaustion; curling up onto his lap and accepting the occasional lick of ice-cream that was offered to him with a happy mewl. It warmed Gavin’s heart; at least someone loved him.

Or maybe the damn cat didn’t even love him and was only using him for food and a place to sleep.

Nobody bothered Gavin over his two days off, not a text or phone call. There was especially nobody calling round to his apartment to check up on him. The realisation was both relieving yet disappointing; he hated people pitying him and didn’t want to open up to anyone, but at the same time he also had this insistent selfish craving for love and acceptance. Tina cared, she wouldn’t be making him go the therapy if not, but she also had her own life to worry about and didn’t really have the time to always be checking up on him.

Besides, he was a fucking grown-ass man, he shouldn’t need his friend making sure he was still alive and okay.

Regardless, Gavin was surprised to find himself wishing to be back in Nines’ office because, even if they rarely spoke, it was nice to be in the presence of another person – particularly one whose literal job was to care about him.

So, when Tuesday afternoon rolled around and Gavin found himself once again in the organised office of his therapist, he didn’t feel as closed-off as he had done a week ago.

Smiling a tiny smile at Nines, Gavin situated himself in his usual spot on the couch and sighed contently at the softness of the cushions. He didn’t know if Nines had chosen this particular couch because of its comfort or its style but he was glad that he had chosen it; it offered a healthy contrast to the stiff precinct chairs.

“How are you today, Gavin?” Nines questioned, swivelling his chair to face him.

Gavin shrugged noncommittedly. “’m alright.” Nines smiled, warm and brief but it still caused something to churn in Gavin’s stomach.

The man sat across from him still wore all black, but today he’d swapped the tight-knitted turtleneck for a crisp black shirt and maroon suspenders. The material shaped down the curve of his back, wide shoulders and lanky arms and Gavin found his eyes lingering on the man for longer than was perhaps acceptable. However, Nines didn’t seem to have noticed.

Crossing one leg over the other, Nines fixed him with a raised eyebrow – perfectly sculpted, like every other damn thing about this man. Gavin scowled momentarily. “So, was there anything you wanted to talk about?”

Gavin regarded Nines with a disbelieving look – wondering what was with the question; he hadn’t asked last week. Though, it was possible that Nines had been letting him settle in to the appointments before bothering to start with any actual work.

Now that he thought about it, Gavin quite liked the idea of having an actual conversation with the man. As long as it didn’t get emotional, because fuck that.

He racked his brains for something worthy of a conversation, finally settling on asking Nines a question about himself rather than the other way around. “There is one thing that I’ve been wanting to ask.” he started, catching the attention of the other man, “What’s with the nickname?”

Nines chuckled, leaning back in his chair. Gavin tried really hard not to look at his legs – dressed in those tight black jeans and looking like they went on for _miles_. A contemplative look fell over Nines’ face and Gavin found himself actually wanting to hear what he had to say.

“Well, it’s a nickname from my teen years. I was, how would you say it? I wasn’t the most cautious of kids and I ended up in hospitals more often than not. Luckily, the worst that’s actually happened to me was I broke my leg in two places. It healed perfectly, though.” Nines explained, and _God_ Gavin could listen to him speak forever; his voice was silky smooth but gruff at the same time, something that caused his stomach to do continuous somersaults. “I believe it comes from a cat and their nine lives.”

Gavin smiles, against his will, because there’s just something about the glint in Nines’ eyes that show he’s particularly fond of the name and its meaning. It’s cute, Gavin won’t deny that.

“You sure it isn’t just because your friends thought you were a little shit?” Gavin smirked, surprising himself with his words but not regretting them when they bring a low chuckle from the other man’s throat.

“Perhaps, it’s very likely, yes.” Nines replies, all prim and proper. Gavin resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Do you have a cat?” The question is unexpected, Nines sending an encouraging smile across to Gavin but seeming curious too. It makes him doubt whether this is some fucking therapist technique or if Nines is genuinely interested in him and his life.

He decides it’s a harmless question either way, and answers with a smile that only his cat can bring out on him. “Yeah, yeah, man I do. His name’s Maxwell. Adorable fucker, but don’t be fooled; he’s sly as shit. Once stole a whole fucking pack of sausages – and they were damn tofu sausages, too!” Apparently, vegetarian options were just as worth the hassle as the real deal in Maxwell’s mind because he’d made sure to eat every single fucking sausage before Gavin had returned from work.

Nines laughs, leaning forward so that his elbows rest on his knees. He flicks a loose curl out of his eyes, sighing when it flops stubbornly pack in place. “How long have you had him for?”

Gavin shrugs, eyebrows rising and eyes flitting to the ceiling as he thinks. “Jesus, I don’t even know. Three years? I rescued him from an abandoned apartment during a search for some perp. Poor guy had been left behind in the scumbag’s attempt to run. Looked a right state, too.”

He certainly didn’t miss the fond look on Nines’ face, but Gavin being the stubbornly unemotional prick that he was tried to ignore it. There was no use getting attached to the man because once this – whatever the fuck _this_ was – was over they’d never see one another again.

Regardless, Gavin still continued to gush about his dork of a cat – even going so far as to show Nines some of the random pictures that he’s taken of him over the years. Each one earned an ‘awe’ from Nines, and Gavin would smile – totally out of pride for his cat and no other reasons. When his appointment ended, Gavin felt in a considerably better mood than he had done in quite some time and he found himself thinking that perhaps he could get some good out of therapy after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments on the previous chapter are so sweet! Thank you so much to everyone reading this, it means a lot that you'd take your time to read my work!!
> 
> Love you guys x


	3. You Got Me Right In The Palm Of Your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fucking feelings,” he mumbled into the bottle. “There’s a new guy, he’s one of my clients. He’s…interesting.”
> 
> “Interesting. That’s basically Nines’ way of saying that he wants to fuck this guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatttt this took so long to write oml! I was ill over the weekend and it genuinely annoyed me because I'd planned to write so much :( I'm back though! 
> 
> Warning: mentions of abuse, not in loads of detail but still mentioned so be cautious in the third section of this chapter
> 
> Happy reading, snowflakes <3

Nines let out a frustrated groan as he flopped down onto his brother’s couch, head thrown back to stare at the ceiling. He’d come straight over to Connor’s house as soon as his shift had finished, mind jumbled with an overflow of conflicting emotions. Fuck, sometimes he wished he was a machine or some shit.

“What’s up, Rich?” Connor asked, taking a seat next to him on the couch and handing him an opened beer. Nines thanked him, taking a well-deserved sip of the drink and ignoring the slight bitterness it left on his tongue.

“Fucking feelings,” he mumbled into the bottle. Connor chuckled beside him, but didn’t speak any further and Nines took this as a silent urge for him to continue. “There’s a new guy, he’s one of my clients. He’s…interesting.”

Nines scoffed, interesting sure. He totally didn’t stay up at night thinking of those gorgeous grey eyes and troublesomely handsome face, or that rough voice that sent literal shivers down his spine.

A light laugh came from the doorway and Nines looked up to see his brother’s boyfriend stepping in, nursing a steaming mug of what he presumed to be a black coffee. “Interesting. That’s basically Nines’ way of saying that he wants to fuck this guy.”

Nines blushed, red and flustered, and he drew his eyes away from Markus quickly. Connor whipped around, smacking at Markus’ arm, but there was a surprised smile on his face. Sadly, Markus was right; he always had a way of understanding what Nines was saying without him actually voicing his thoughts aloud – something Connor struggled with. His brother didn’t usually look between the lines.

“Wait,” Connor twisted back to face Nines, his face falling naturally into the protective older brother expression that he wore so well during their school years. “So, you like one of your clients?”

Nines sighed, tipping the last drops of beer down his throat. “Basically, yeah.”

Markus laughed, perching on the armrest next to Connor. “That sucks, man.” Nines’ heart warmed as he watched his brother’s hand slide up to rest comfortingly on Markus’ thigh. They’d been dating for almost five years now – they met in University, but it took a couple years and a drunken night out for them to realise that they were more than just best friends. Nines was happy for his brother, and Markus too, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly bitter too; this was what he wanted – a healthy, long-lasting relationship with someone that understood him.

“Tell me about it.” he replied, scowling. It was only his luck that he’d fall for a client, and a ridiculously stubborn, closed-off one at that. It was totally against staff rules to date clients, for obvious reasons. Nines was, if anything, a stickler for rules.

Markus pats his own leg and gestures towards Nines with a reassuring smile. “Hey, you never know, this guy might like you back! Just…I dunno. Wait a bit, see how he is around you? And then swoop in and claim your man.”

Connor tutted and rolled his eyes playfully, hand falling on Nines’ shoulder. “Ignore him, he’s a hopeless romantic.” Connor smirked when Markus gently whacked him on the head. “Don’t worry too much, okay? It might just be a little crush and if not then, well, tread carefully. Yeah? We’re always here for you though.”

Nines smiled, thankful at his brother’s understanding. He was damn lucky to have such great people in his life.

He nodded, “Yeah, Con, I won’t do anything stupid.” Judging by the raised eyebrows that his older brother directs his way, Connor is clearly recalling every time during their lives that Nines has done something rash and has needed his brother to come to his rescue. But whatever, he meant it. He wouldn’t do anything stupid.

Or, at least, he’d try not to.

*

Gavin grumbled to himself as he tipped his cold coffee down the drain, going to the coffee machine and setting it up to make another. Damn case files, distracting him from the important things: caffeine.

“Someone got out the wrong bed today.” Tina chirped, coming to rest against the counter beside him. Gavin rolled his eyes, not bothering to grace her with a response. Not until he’s had an actual decent cup of coffee.

This doesn’t stop his friend, unfortunately.

“So, how’ve you been?” she hints, fixing him with a knowing look.

“Fuckin’ fantastic.” Gavin says, grabbing his mug of coffee and taking a sip (grimacing as it bruns his tongue but relishing in the flavour).

Tina rolled her eyes, “Seriously, man. I care about you, just fucking talk to me.” There was no actual malice in her words but she definitely sounded close to losing her shit. Gavin decided that he had a couple more minutes until his break was up, so he may as well indulge her for a while. If only to get her off of his fucking back.

He slides into the seat by the table, hands wrapped around his mug and taking a sip every now and then. Tina follows suit, grabbing a bottle of water from the break room fridge.

“It’s been alright, actually.” he admits, fingers tapping against his mug. “I mean, I haven’t fucking said anything really but we’ve been talking about life and cats.”

“Cats?”

“Yeah,” Gavin shrugged, “I mentioned mine a couple sessions ago and now we just watch cat videos on YouTube most of the time.”

Tina scoffed, a smile spreading over her lips nonetheless. “So what, you’re paying to watch cat videos with some dude instead of actually sorting your life out?”

Gavin smiled back, unable to not find the situation funny when it’s said back to him like that. He tilts his head in thought, “I guess so? But it’s nice; he’s an alright guy, actually.” Tina leans forward now, interest caught.

“Alright? Just alright? Because I saw him when I was doing some research an-”

“You fucking’ looked up my therapist?” Gavin said, perhaps a bit too loud because Chris looked up from is desk. Gavin ignored him.

Tina shrugged, unbothered. “Well, duh. I had to make sure he wasn’t some creep. Anyway, he’s hot so I was satisfied.”

Gavin leant back, shaking his head. “Un-fucking-believable. You…for fuck’s sake Tina, why?”

“Why not? C’mon, you have to admit that he’s not bad on the eyes.”

Gavin thought about it, taking another sip of his coffee. He thought back to all the times that he’d found himself feeling slightly more lightheaded around Nines, how often he’d catch himself staring at the man and not the screen with the cat videos playing, how often he’d lose himself in the sound of the man’s melodic laugh. Fuck, okay, maybe Tina was right. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tina didn’t even raise her eyebrows at him, just crossing her arms loosely over the table. “Fuck off, I can tell you like him just from that stupid grin on your face.”

“What?” Gavin’s hand instinctively went to his mouth but faltered when Tina laughed. “Shut up!” The blush spreading over his cheeks definitely wasn’t helping his situation. He groaned, giving up in arguing against her. It was useless; he should have already learnt this from their countless fights during their years at the academy.

When he eventually wandered back to his desk, Gavin found that he wasn’t as focused on his case files as he had been previously. Instead, his mind was whirring with the new information that he apparently hadn’t understood until now – he fucking _liked_ his therapist.

God, he sounded like a fucking school-girl. _Liked?_ Pathetic.

Oddly enough, though, the thought brought another damn smile to his face and he even considered the idea of actually talking to Nines. Properly, client to therapist. Because, if he could like the man enough to have a crush on him surely he could trust him to do his job?

*

Gavin’s next therapy session rolled around much quicker than he’d have liked, and he found himself sat back on that familiar leather couch facing the illegally handsome face of Nines, dressed head-to-toe in all black clothes that clung to his slender frame in a way that messed with Gavin’s insides. The warm smile that rested on the other man’s lips wasn’t helping him in the slightest.

_Fuck, was he really about to do this?_

“What will it be today?” Nines asked, scooting closer on his chair until he was sat only a few metres from Gavin. “Cat videos or ‘Vines That Butter My Croissant’?”

Gavin scowled slightly and chewed the inside of his cheek; the smirk on Nines’ lips was totally not allowed.

He rested his hands on his lap, picking at his bitten-down nails anxiously. “Uh- neither.”

“Oh?” Nines crossed one leg other the other, graceful as ever. He didn’t prod further, allowing Gavin to elaborate in his own time. Gavin was thankful for that.

He blinked up at Nines from where his head had tipped down, fringe falling over his eyes. “I- uh…I wanted to…fuck, I wanna talk about shit.” Gesturing carelessly, Gavin only prayed that Nines understood what he meant by the words.

Nines raised an eyebrow, the only inclination that he’d heard Gavin speak in the first place.

“Fuck, how do I do this?” Gavin groaned, palm rubbing over his face and thumb and forefinger pinching at the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes as a deep sigh left his mouth.

There was a gentle hand on his knee and he jumped, eyes snapping open to find Nines sat directly in front of him with an encouraging smile on his face. Usually, it would make Gavin feel as though he was being treat like a child, but coming from Nines (in this current situation) it was nothing but a sincere sign of compassion. Nines cared.

Fuck, Gavin almost smiled.

“Just, take a moment, yeah?” Nines spoke, uncharacteristically soft and _shit_ Gavin wished to hear him speak like that more often. “Then start from wherever feels comfortable.”

Gavin nodded, eyes meeting Nines’. He could still feel the man’s hand on his knee, a grounding pressure of heat and contact. It definitely helped.

“Alright,” Gavin took a steadying breath, fists clenching and unclenching in his lap, “Shit, so…” And Gavin launched into a full explanation of his past – well, almost full. He told Nines everything from how his dad was a low-life cheat who’d cheated on his wife with Gavin’s mum to how it affected his mum’s mental health and consequentially his childhood.

He never met his dad, stupid prick apparently stayed with his wife – who was also conveniently knocked up, a few months prior to his mum – and so he was left with his mum throughout his childhood. He’s not even sure if his dad knows that he exists. Frankly, Gavin couldn’t be bothered either way.

Childhood sucked, as a result, because his mum couldn’t fucking fend for herself. His teen years, in particular, were the worst and Gavin always tried to block to worst parts from his memory. However, sat with Nines in the room that now seemed to bring him security and safety rather than tension, Gavin found it easier to open up and spill his deepest darkest memories. Nines didn’t speak as Gavin told him about his mum losing her job and turning to alcohol, leaving a thirteen year-old Gavin to take care of himself. Instead, he moved his hand from Gavin’s knee and rested it over his fidgeting hands in his lap – prying them apart and clasping them between his own with a gentle squeeze. Gavin, surprisingly, didn’t feel the usual urge to pull out of physical contact.

He continued to tell Nines about his mum’s disgusting habits of having a new guy round every night. Gavin would basically be resigned into his bedroom with his headphones on full blast for hours on end because like fuck did he want to walk into something as unnatural as his mum drunk off her head being fucked on the couch or some shit like that. Nines had quirked a smile at Gavin’s choice of words, thumb stroking over the rough skin of his hand when Gavin went to say more – voice cracking as he forced himself to keep talking.

Gavin soon discovered that there was nothing more difficult than telling somebody about how, when his mum didn’t manage to find a lonely guy to drag back home with her, she would turn her attention towards him. Not in the friendly, typical loving mother way, either. No, she’d fucking beat him to shit in the corner of the living-room, or his bedroom, or the kitchen…wherever he was. Nowhere was safe on those nights. Once, she’d dragged him from the shower just to kick his ribs in because _‘I can do whatever the fuck I want, Gav, shut your fucking mouth.’_. The use of him name always made it worse; it showed that she knew he was her son and yet still wanted to hurt him like she did. It always made Gavin feel like shit, dirt on the bottom of someone’s shoe that they couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard they scrubbed.

Sometimes, he’d wished to just end it all. It would be better for the both of them.

Nines wiped a stray tear from the corner of Gavin’s eye, palm spreading to cradle the side of his face and Gavin leaned into the touch against his pride. His hands were still in Nines’ hold, reassuring and just there. Gavin found that he quite liked it.

He put it down to being so fucking touch-starved…well, along with the huge crush he seemed to have developed for his therapist out of fucking nowhere.

Nines’ thumb moved from his cheekbone to the bridge of his nose, tracing the long scar that rested there – smug and ugly. Gavin hated it with every fibre of his body. Nines, however, seemed to not be able to draw his eyes from it – soft and worried gaze rather than the expected look of disgust. “Did she do this?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Gavin blinked, looking down to his and Nines’ hands. “Yeah, threw a smashed fuckin’ wine bottle at me.” Nines moved closer, and Gavin held his breath, unsure of what was possibly about to happen. But he needn’t have worried; Nines seemed to catch himself before he got too close and pulled back again with a clear of his throat. He dropped his hand from Gavin’s face but allowed his other to stay entwined with Gavin’s hands.

“What about the others?”

He didn’t need to expand; Gavin knew he was referencing to his many other scars – faded and fresh, littered across his face and many more covered up by clothes. Nines would probably hate them all, ugly and unmissable against his tan skin. “Most of ‘em are from her, yeah. A few I got from cases at work – the usual, perp with a knife, thinking he can somehow get one up on me.” Gavin let a smug smile spread across his lips as he laughed, thinking back to the few pricks that had tried to best him. Stupid decision really; only earns them a broken bone or two and a longer sentence for attacking an officer.

Nines chuckled at that too, finally pulling his hand away from Gavin – much to his dislike, though he’d never say that. He lingered, looking as though he wanted to say something more, but refrained.

Gavin could feel the tension between them, and he was sure that it was because he’d opened up. Fuck, he should’ve just kept quiet. Now he’s gone and ruined the one slightly good thing in his life. But when Nines stood up and planted a firm hand on his shoulder and smiled down at him, thanking him for trusting him? God, Gavin could have melted right there on the couch.

He didn’t though. Luckily.

The reminder for his appointment coming to an end rang through the comfortable silence that had settled in the room and Gavin ignored the disappointment that he felt as he stood up and headed out of the room. Nines bid him goodbye, wishing him a good few days until their next appointment, and Gavin found himself repeating the same thing. It brought a genuine smile to Nines’ face though, so Gavin couldn’t find himself feeling embarrassed – even after spilling his fucking tragic life to the man.

Nines’ touch still lingered over him as he took the short walk home, the faint memory of a hand caressing his scarred face, a hand gripping is fingers… A smile graced his face, stepping into his apartment to be greeted by his cat. His next appointment couldn’t come quick enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is almost done! It was supposed to be a short pwp thing so I added more plot than I even needed xD The next chapter is basically gonna be smut, with some plot? I hope y'all are ready!
> 
> Comments are my inspiration to write!! Thank you so much for the feedback on this fic already!
> 
> Love you guys x


	4. Cuz I Want You Anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft lips. Warm body. Gentle touch.
> 
> Nines melted into Gavin, elbows resting carefully over his stomach whilst his hands splayed across the man's chest. He could feel Gavin's heartbeat flutter under his fingertips and a smile worked it's way over Nines' lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, yo, yoooo it's nearly 2am and I had major writer's block for most of the day over this but hey it's here at last! Basically just all nsfw? Like, almost all smut.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my shipping soulmate [right here](https://unlikelykingdomsuit.tumblr.com/)! I hope you like this!!
> 
> Happy reading, snowflakes <3

Nines decided that he didn’t quite like the sullen, almost beaten down, look on Gavin’s face. It made the man age in years, frown lines deepening and eyes scowling accusingly. Nines preferred the carefree glint and upturned lips that would appear whenever they watched something particularly amusing.

Unfortunately, one major part of therapy was discussing sensitive topics. And as much as Nines may try to pretend, Gavin was still his client and so he still had to help him through his struggles. Crush be damned.

Regardless, Nines couldn’t help but wish he could kiss that frown away.

Scolding himself for such unprofessional thoughts, Nines tuned back in to Gavin’s words – though his focus was more attuned to the movement of Gavin’s mouth, his lips curling and folding over syllables and tongue darting out to wet them once in a while. It was rather intriguing.

“- I mean, it ain’t like I can change the past.” Gavin remarked, shoulder sagging as he slid further into the cushion of the couch. Nines sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose as he gathered his thoughts.

“No,” he started, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward on his elbows to fix Gavin with his best reassuring gaze, “But you can change now. You can accept your past and move on, one step at a time, until one day you find that you don’t quite hate yourself as much and maybe life isn’t so shit after all. One day, you’ll realise that you weren’t to blame for any of this.”

Gavin scoffed, but it wasn’t as harsh sounding as it usually was. He was considering Nines’ words then.

“It’s so fucking messed up.” Gavin shook his head with a bitter, empty laugh, “No wonder I’m so fucking unlovable.”

Nines saw red, fists clenching in his lap; was Gavin blind? Unlovable?

Professionalism be damned, Nines thought, rising from his chair and taking the few wide strides across the room in barely a second. Gavin blinks up at him in surprise, mouth hanging agape. He doesn't speak as Nines now towers in front of him.

Nines isn't thinking straight, anger at Gavin's obvious dislike towards himself and pent up emotions finally bursting through his carefully secluded walls. Hands pressing to Gavin's chest – feeling the erratic beat of his heart – Nines pushes the other man backwards until he's laying on the couch.

Long legs move to straddle Gavin's waist, hands still pushing against his chest, and Gavin does nothing to stop him. Nines looks into the other's eyes – warm grey and flecks of green shimmering under the afternoon sun filtered through the window – and suddenly he's pressing his lips down onto Gavin's.

Soft lips. Warm body. Gentle touch.

Nines melted into Gavin, elbows resting carefully over his stomach whilst his hands splayed across the man's chest. He could feel Gavin's heartbeat flutter under his fingertips and a smile worked it's way over Nines' lips.

Gavin tasted of bitter coffee and something else, something sweeter like honey or syrup? Nines wanted more, tongue joining Gavin's in a rush of wet heat. The stubble on the man's jaw rubbed over Nines' sensitive skin, scratching, and he knew there'd be red marks later.

He didn't have it in him to care.

Everything was perfect, until rough fingers ghosted over the skin revealed where Nines' top had pulled up sending a shiver down his spine. Suddenly, reality hit him like a speeding truck and his eyes snapped open – he didn't even remember closing them. Using Gavin's chest as support, Nines pushed himself away from the man's lips – wiping away the trail of saliva that joined their mouths together. He remained straddling Gavin's hips though, whilst he gathered his thoughts.

_What the fuck was he doing?!_

Kissing a fucking client. That was wrong in so many ways.

Nines groaned, eyes sparing a fleeting glance down to Gavin to see the man confused and panting lightly. Fuck.

He runs a hand through his loose curls, thankful that he'd passed on the hair gel today, and slid his palm over his face. His lower lip stings as he worries it between his teeth, looking back down to Gavin and expecting the man to start shouting at him and pushing him away with disgust.

But Gavin doesn't do any of that. In fact, what Gavin does do takes Nines by complete surprise.

Hooded eyes, wet lips, chest rising and falling at an increased pace. Gavin moans.

Nines doesn't have time to question Gavin before he's grabbed by the shoulders and is pulled back down to his earlier position. “Fuck, you're beautiful.” Gavin says, voice deeper than Nines has heard it before and wow...he wants to listen to it all day.

But, he decides that he'd much rather continue kissing Gavin when the man inn question pushes himself up to capture Nines' lips with his own. Nines allows Gavin to bring a hand to the back of his neck and guide them gently down, lying chest-to-chest over the leather couch of his office.

Shit. Why did that thought turn him on so much?

It had started out as a fairly innocent kiss, soft and slow, but it didn't stay like that for more than a few seconds. Gavin glided his fingers up to curl through Nines' hair, gripping it and pulling him closer. Nines' toes curled at the sensations such a simple action caused to shoot through his body. Soon enough, the kiss was rough and Nines melted into it completely. Even if he was the one straddling Gavin's hips, he was losing control fast. He didn't mind.

Gavin's hands slid to Nines' shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle and almost drawing a moan from him. Gavin must have noticed, smirking against Nines' lips.

Without even breaking the kiss, Gavin pushed Nines up and down onto his back causing his head to bang on the armrest but neither paid it much mind. Nines ended up with his knees propped up, legs spread enough for Gavin to slot himself between them and lean down over him. His hands were gripping at Gavin's hips, probably tight enough to leave small finger-shaped bruises behind.

He hoped he did.

Gavin takes it upon himself to place his lips over Nines jaw, suckling at the pale skin there like there was nothing else he'd rather do. Wet, hot marks were left all down Nines' throat, teeth digging into flesh to leave behind bruises that would most definitely remain for the next few days. Unforgiving and _so fucking good_.

Nines parts his lips, heavy pants filling the air already. Had it really been this long since Nines had fucked anyone? Or was it just because it was Gavin here? Gavin straddling his hips. Gavin littering hickeys over his neck. Gavin grinding down onto his obvious erection.

Wait. What?

“Shit,” Nines moaned, the friction Gavin caused enough to finally allow him to release the sounds that he'd been so desperately fighting back. Gavin shot him a smug smirk, hands fiddling at the hem of Nines' jumper.

Nines bucked his hips up, pulling at Gavin's hips to get as much contact with the man as possible. He was more than aware of Gavin's arousal, feeling it brush over his own ones again. Nines had never before hated clothes as much as he did in that moment.

Gavin was in control, it seemed. Completely now, Nines realised, as the man wasted no time in coaxing Nines up into a sitting position to pull his jumper from him. The chill of the air hit his skin and he bristled, but soon forgot it as warm lips pressed to his chest and he was pushed back down once again.

A tongue, hot and wet and _oh so good_ , found it's way to one of his nipples. Swirling around the bud, it sent a wave of pleasure through Nines. Arching his back from the couch, a sticky sound of leather and skin following the movement, Nines let out a low groan.

“Fuck, baby, you sound so good.” Gavin was growling in Nines' ear, teeth playfully tugging at his ear lobe. This Gavin was far from the insecure one he'd witnessed barely ten minutes ago.

Nines couldn't fathom a dignified response, hips bucking involuntarily as he made to grab at Gavin's shirt. It wasn't fair for him to be the only one getting undressed. The man chuckled, pulling himself far enough from Nines to allow him to practically tear the shirt from him.

Gavin threw his shirt somewhere on the floor but Nines wasn't really paying attention, eyes falling on tan skin scattered with roughly patched up scars. His fingers moved from Gavin's hips to trace over the many scars that covered the man's skin, lips reaching up to brush over the closest one. Gavin shuddered.

Suddenly, Nines is reminded yet again of how wrong what they're doing is. Gavin is his client. A client that has been abused and trusted Nines in knowing this. Yet, as Nines looks up to see the frown forming over Gavin's eyes – eyes which are blown dark grey with need – he realises that Gavin is also trusting him right now.

Gavin is in control. If Gavin wants to stop, he can.

Nines manages to satisfy his over-worrying mind with that thought and smiles briefly up at Gavin before stealing a kiss from him, pulling him back down onto the couch with the promise of more as his hands glide down to rest at the waistband of Gavin's jeans.

Gavin smiled into the kiss, hands going to meet Nines' as he tugged at his jeans and boxers all in one, kicking them off of his ankles in record time. Nines’ were next to follow, though they took significantly longer to peel from his skin and a whole load of curse words tumbled from Gavin's lips.

“Don't ever fucking wear these things again, I swear-” Gavin grumbled, causing Nines to laugh. They finally got the damn things off and Gavin made sure to throw them as far across the room as he could, drawing an exasperated eye roll from Nines.

Now, Nines had the time to fully appreciate the view above him and he was not disappointed. Gavin was gorgeous, in every sense of the word; toned thighs, long calves, the smallest hints of a six-pack and a trail of hair that lead from his stomach to his dick – which, to put simply, had Nines' mouth watering.

“Holy-” Nines was cut of by a pair of lips against his and the rest of his sentence was muffled into a rough kiss. When Gavin pulled away again, he tugged at Nines’ lower lip for a moment longer whilst holding eye contact and Nines thought, in all honesty, that it was the hottest thing he's experienced. “Wait, how are we gonna?” Nines panted out after a couple seconds, hand gesturing between them.

Gavin rolled his eyes, anchoring his thighs around Nines’ hips and grinding down just enough to cause him to twitch underneath the man. “I'm going to ride your dick until you're moaning my name loud enough for the fuckers down the hall to hear you.” Gavin stated, blunt and matter-of-fact, with the glimmer of a smirk.

Nines bit his lip, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as he collected himself. This man was quite possibly going to be the death of him.

Nines watches as Gavin lifts his hand to his mouth and licks a long and agonisingly slow stripe up his palm, eyes staring down to him.

“Fuck, Gavin.” Nines breathes out, as Gavin's hand wraps around his cock and begins to pump slowly. Leaning forward, Gavin bites down harshly into Nines' already bruised neck and draws another guttural moan from him.

His hips thrust into Gavin's hand and he grabs at Gavin's forearm out of instinct – needing something to ground himself before he got too caught up in the europhic feeling flooding through his veins. His nails dig into Gavin's arm but the man shows no signs of pain.

Lips pepper across his skin, over his pulse point, and stubble scratches at him in a comforting way. Hair tickling his nose. Gavin is so close, and Nines allows his eyes to flutter closed as he breathes the other in: cigarette smoke and mint.

He's getting close now, Gavin still lazily stroking him whilst trailing bites over his unmarked chest as Nines steadily fucks himself into his fist. The leather creaks underneath them. Nines doesn't care.

Another stroke, Gavin's grip tightening as he runs the pad of his thumb over Nines’ head, catching the small drops of precum already leaking down onto Gavin's fingers.

“Gavin, I want- ah- shit,” Nines moans, the sound bouncing off the walls of the room.

Gavin takes his opportunity, unoccupied hand snaking behind Nines' head and pulling him up into an uncoordinated and desperate kiss. The man hums into Nines' mouth and another moan tumbles from Nines' lips.

“Please,” he whispers against Gavin's lips.

Gavin hushes him, finger replacing where his lips had been as he pushes up from Nines, his leaking cock bobbing onto his stomach. “Shit, do you have lube?” Gavin curses, and Nines notices a faint blush creep over his cheeks. He's too far gone to tease the man, however, hand gesturing vaguely in the direction of his desk.

“Should do, look in the draw.”

Gavin frowns, padding across the office and rifling through the small draw of his desk. He pulls out a small bottle of lube, unopened, and shoots Nines a curious look.

“I swear, it's not for what you thi- ah!” Nines' explanations are cut short when Gavin covers his mouth with his hand. Nines darts his tongue out, tasting salt and sweat. Gavin smirks down at him with a raised eyebrow, hand turning to cup Nines' jaw and stroke a thumb over his cheek.

“I ain't got time for fucking explanations. I just need your dick up my ass.” Gavin chuckles, swinging a leg over Nines as he speaks. Nines would be lying if he said the bluntness of Gavin's words didn't send a pleasant shock down to his cock.

Nines watched intently as Gavin popped open the bottle of lube smeared it across his own fingers, taking a moment to heat it up. He didn't know what he was expecting, but Gavin lifting up his hips and slowly lowering himself onto his own fingers with a pained moan was definitely not at the top of Nines' list. The sight was beautiful: sweaty and panting, eyes closed and eyebrows knitted together as he adjusted to his fingers before gradually beginning to bounce up and down – all the while still straddling Nines' hips.

A strained moan filled the air and Nines wasn't even sure if it had come from him anymore. His own hand slid down to his neglected cock, fingers wrapping around his length and pumping with less finesse than Gavin had managed. His eyes were trained on the man working himself open above him, the resounding smack of skin on skin echoing around him. Gavin was panting freely now, tiny mewls slipping from his throat and Nines was so tempted to flip them over and wreck him right there.

He refrained, however. Intrigued as to how the rest of this show would play out.

When Gavin's eyes reopened and he caught sight of Nines fucking himself into his own hand, a dominating growl pushes all innocent moans away and he stills on his fingers. His grey eyes flicker between Nines' own and his hold on his dick.

“Hey,” Gavin says, husky and lust-filled, “Stop that.”

Nines quirks an eyebrow. “Why?”

Gavin scoffs, pulling himself off of his fingers with a wet pop.

“Fucking tease,” there's nothing but want in Gavin's voice and Nines’ cock twitches in anticipation as Gavin swats his hand away. A few gentle strokes as he repositions himself further on top of Nines and then he's slowly sinking down.

Nines groans, nails digging into the tensing muscles of Gavin's thighs as he's overcome with the hot tightness of Gavin. _All Gavin._

Deeper and deeper he slides, Gavin grinding down until he's filled with Nines' dick. Nines refrains from glancing down, not sure if he could handle the sight before him, and instead training his eyes on the blissed out expression taking over Gavin's usually harsh features.

Gavin takes a few moments to adjust, long enough for Nines to burn this beautiful scene to his memory forever. Then he's moving, hands pressed to Nines' chest as he gathers strength in his thighs and rises up and down, repeating the action with a gradual increase in speed.

Nines whines, the pressure around him enough to bring him to a weak mess. He arches his back off of the couch and slaps a hand to his mouth to quieten any further embarrassing sounds.

Breathy pants tumble from Gavin's mouth and he throws his head back as he rolls his hips over Nines'. “Jesus Christ, Nines,” Gavin licks at his bitten lips, one hand moving from Nines’ chest to press onto one of his knees behind him, using it as leverage to move himself more freely. His other hand tugs at Nines’ hand until he can pry it from his mouth. “Fuck, I want to hear you.”

Nines tries, he really tries, but when another tirade of needy sounds spill from his mouth his hand reaches back up to smother them. Gavin growls, clearly annoyed.

“Stop it,” he demands, taking Nines' cock deeper than before and groaning when he obviously brushes over a sensitive nerve. Nines takes it upon himself to thrust his hips up. “Fuck,” Gavin's eyes widen and a long moan follows the curse. He grinds down, meeting Nines' now steady thrusts upwards, quickly losing his composure.

“There's a high chance that someone will hear us.”

Gavin sends him a pointed look, hips not stilling for a second. “So what?”

Nines considers it. So what?

He supposes Gavin has a strong argument; so what? Right now, he's more bothered in pursuing Gavin's fast approaching orgasm than caring in other people's opinions.

“Ah, shit, shit, _shit,_ ” Gavin cries, cock leaking across his stomach. Nines growls, hands gripping at the man's hips and guiding him down onto his dick again – aiming perfectly for his prostate and not being disappointed as a stuttered whine slips out of Gavin's lips.

Gavin is suddenly leaning down, lips pressing against Nines' in a hungry kiss. Their teeth clash together and it's messy and uncoordinated but Nines couldn't care less. Besides, the slight shift in position causes Nines to slip impossibly further into Gavin and hit that bundle of nerves directly, sending Gavin into a shuddering mess.

Gavin's fingers are splayed across Nines' chest and he's fucking himself on his cock hard and fast, Nines thrusting up into him at a matching pace. He barely registers how loud he's being, listening instead to the repetitive moans cascading out of Gavin's mouth. His own moans are bouncing off of the walls, needy and breathless and more likely than not very audible from the hallway outside.

Neither stutter their hips as the rhythm grows sloppier, Gavin's thighs trembling and Nines gripping dangerously tightly at his sides. There will definitely be marks left underneath where his nails are currently scratching.

He's getting closer, sweat beading at his forehead and nothing but _Gavin, Gavin, Gavin_ running through his mind. He thrusts up, Gavin clenches around him, shit he's moaning so fucking loudly.

“Fuck, _Nines..._ ” Gavin breathes out, and the way his name sounds dripping so dirtily from Gavin's bitten and bruised lips is so incredibly intense. Nines is a goner, that much is evident.

A spluttered whine, Gavin tightens around him in response. Fuck, he's so close, so fucking clos-

Nines comes hard, spilling into Gavin with a choked moan whilst Gavin rides him through it. It's not until Gavin has slowed his movements moments after, breath heavy and raspy, that Nines realises that Gavin has come across his stomach.

He doesn't know what possesses him to do so, but Nines dips his fingers into the cum splattered over his stomach and brings it up to his lips, sucking his fingers into his mouth with a hum. Gavin watches, catching his breath.

“Fuckin' gross!” Gavin says, swatting Nines' fingers from his mouth, but the dilation of his pupils tells another story. Nines takes note of it.

Gavin drags himself off of Nines with a wince, flopping down on the space of couch by Nines' feet and tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. Nines has seen him do this many times before, he figures it's a way for the man to gather his thoughts.

“I should thank Tina.” He says after a beat of silence, and Nines shifts until he's in a more appropriate position – legs crossed as he faces Gavin.

“Who?”

Gavin waves a dismissive hand, “My friend. It was her idea that I come here.”

Nines laughs, “Maybe I should thank her too.” He remarks. Really, he should; Gavin is definitely something else.

A chuckle escapes Gavin and he nudges Nines with his elbow, smiling. Nines decides that he definitely prefers Gavin's smiles over his frowns. He's about to say something else when a familiar alarm blares through the room. Nines swears, reaching down to grab his phone from the pile of clothes abandoned on the floor by the couch – save for his jeans, which remain on the opposite side of the room.

He shuts the alarm off, glancing behind him to see Gavin sending him an amused look.

“I guess my time's up?” he smiles.

Nines bites his lip, checking the time. He doesn't have anyone booked after Gavin; he's always his last appointment. He smirks, pushing himself up to lean into Gavin's side and leave the ghost of a kiss over his collarbone. “It is,” he murmurs, “Unless you're up for round two?”

Gavin tilts his head to look down at Nines with a smirk, “Round two?”

Nines doesn't bother replying, crowding into Gavin's space and pushing them both down into the sweat-slicked cushions of the couch, muffling a surprised moan from Gavin with his lips. No, Gavin's time definitely wasn't up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say a HUGE thanks to everyone here reading this right now, y'all are loved and appreciated! I hope this fic wasn't too bad? I'm not great at longer things :/
> 
> Ideas for other fics can always be discussed with me! Seriously, I love all prompts :)
> 
> Love you guys x

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a slut for comments xD
> 
> Love you guys, thanks for reading! Here's to future chapters *raises glass*


End file.
